


After the storm

by littlebirdtoldme



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Post-Battle of Hogwarts, Song Lyrics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-13
Updated: 2015-04-13
Packaged: 2018-03-22 17:12:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3736999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littlebirdtoldme/pseuds/littlebirdtoldme
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>And after the storm, I run and run as the rains come and I look up ... on my knees and out of luck, I look up...</p>
            </blockquote>





	After the storm

Luna had long since rebuilt a house where Hagrid’s hut had once stood. The hut had been destroyed in the war, and it seemed fitting to rebuild something sturdier. It made Luna feel better at least, which was the most important thing. A cottage stood in its place, a cottage with more windows than doors, and the windows held charms rather than glass to keep the elements at bay.

It was traditional for the game-keeper to live near the forest, and Luna was happy to oblige. She had followed in Hagrid’s footsteps of taking on the roles of both game-keeper and Care or Magical Creatures professor. The forest made her feel alive, and goodness only knew how much she needed that.

She joined the other teachers in the castle for the meals, and occasional meeting with headmistress McGonagall, but aside from that she kept to herself. She had always appreciated solitude: now it was both her freedom and her cage.

Students visited her, sometimes. Not as much as they had once visited Hagrid, but then, the bond was not quite the same as with the half-giant. Luna didn’t mind, or at least she was apathetic either way.

It was Neville who visited the most. Being the herbology professor, he had the most reason, but it was more often personal than professional. Neville could still make her laugh, even now, and she loved the spark that lit his eyes when he spoke of his work, how his second years had successfully repotted their mandrakes with no one getting hurt. Sometimes they talked – about the war, about how Hogwarts used to be. Hogwarts still had its Houses, that would never change, but the animosity between them had all but dissolved. Of course, there was still some level of prejudice against the Slytherins, but the teachers made an effort to diffuse it, and to show the students that cunning did not equal evil, and ambition did not equal a cold heart.

But they didn’t know, of course they didn’t. Luna and Neville’s war was as much a page in the history books for the students as the teachers’ parents’ war was to them. She could hardly fault them for not being there at the time – she thanked the stars they had not been, she would give anything for her world not to plunge her students into yet another war.

Sometimes, though, when Neville came, nothing was said. That was something Luna loved about him: a silence was never an uncomfortable one. They could sit, nothing but their slow breaths passing between them, for as long as they liked, and the atmosphere would never so much as hint at awkwardness. Luna needed him, she soon came to realise, and he did her. Luna avoided professor Binns for a reason: the war had become a painful scar, as painful as Harry’s once was, yet not one that others could see.

One day, when Neville came to her, she wasn’t in her cottage. She was outside, on the edge of the forest, looking towards Hogwarts with a strange expression on her face. Neville stood apart from her, leaving some distance. She was lost in thought, he knew, and he wasn’t one to disturb that. After a few long moments, she turned to him and smiled that small smile that was somehow both sad and joyous at once. Maybe it was something in her eyes. He didn’t know. He didn’t care.

She reached out a hand to him, wordless. He took it, and as he laced his fingers with hers, rain started to fall. Gently at first, but it quickly picked up until the pair were drenched. Neither moved. Luna lifted her face upwards and opened her mouth to catch the raindrops, as a small child might, and Neville couldn’t help but smile. He took a step closer to her and wrapped one arm around her waist. She turned herself, pulling into him, and he raised their interlocked fingers and began to dance clumsily in a circle with her. Luna looked up at him, her blonde hair pulled straight by the heavy rain, droplets of water running down her cheek and onto her neck.

They turned, but stumbled – they had tried to step in opposite directions. Their feet slipped on the soaked grass, and they fell to the ground, still linked. Luna’s bell-peal laughter and Neville’s comforting chuckles filled the air as the pair found each other’s eyes once more, and Neville’s heart leapt as he saw that her smile had reached her eyes. She had a beautiful smile, truly, but it so rarely saw the light of day as fully as it did in this moment.

Neville thought he felt tears pooling in his eyes and spilling over his rough features, but he couldn’t be sure – he couldn’t quite place the emotions tumbling within him at that moment, and even if he could, he wasn’t certain that it wasn’t simply raindrops. Were raindrops usually this salty?

Luna’s face softened and she placed her slim hand against his cheek. Stroking his face with her thumb, Neville’s eyes closed and he leaned into her touch. It didn’t matter anymore, nothing did – not the war, not the students, not the rain, because he had her. He had his rock in Luna, and she had her anchor in him, and finally, _finally_ – they could live in peace.


End file.
